


Apartment 307

by PeppyBismilk



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cats, M/M, Meet-Cute, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21976612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppyBismilk/pseuds/PeppyBismilk
Summary: Yuuri's closest confidant in his quiet, simple life is his beloved cat, Panko, but after a chance encounter with the mysterious guy who lives next door, their lives get a whole lot more complicated.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Katsuki Yuuri
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52
Collections: Yuri!!! on Ice Secret Skater 2019





	Apartment 307

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allollipoppins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allollipoppins/gifts).



Yuuri was a traitor.

If only Mari could see him now, cooing and gushing over a cat. The Katsukis were dog people. They had always been dog people. And yet…

Yuuri’s apartment was too small for a dog, but living off campus was lonely and cats were so soft and cute. From the moment he laid eyes on Panko at the shelter, he knew she was the cat for him. She was a gorgeous, golden-brown shorthair, about two years old and already spayed. Kittens had too much energy and needed more attention than a student could give (kind of like dogs), but Panko was an adult cat who “liked to be near people but not on them.” 

Yuuri could relate. 

...and Mari never had to know. 

Panko settled in well, picking a spot on Yuuri’s thrifted couch and becoming his steadfast homework companion. She purred at his feet while he typed on his laptop, slept on the floor by his bed but not on it, and only accepted pats on the top of her head.

She couldn’t have been more perfect.

“See you after class, Panko,” said Yuuri. Today was one of the rare days she didn’t want him to leave. Letting out a _prrrowl_ , she rubbed one of his ankles, then the other, winding around him in figure eights so he could barely walk. He took a glance at her food bowl—a little food left, and a full water bowl next to the dish, so she wasn’t begging. He bent down to pet her and she arched into his hand, purring louder than he’d ever heard. 

“Silly kitty,” he said fondly. He closed the door behind himself, Panko’s purrs audible even through the heavy wood. He wasn’t too worried—she was eating and drinking normally, after all, she just wasn’t usually so insistent on cuddling. He’d call the vet if she was still acting weird tonight, but he was going to be late for Linguistics if he didn’t leave now. 

He hiked up his backpack straps and turned around, colliding into something solid. Someone?

Dark brown eyes stared up at him, impassive—his neighbor.

“Oh!” Yuuri hadn’t meant to say it aloud. He didn’t even know his neighbor’s name, had never seen him smile or heard him talk, and today was no different. He just stared at Yuuri. “I’m sorry,” Yuuri offered, stepping aside. “Are you okay?”

His neighbor nodded once (or maybe he just twitched) and brushed past to his apartment. Yuuri stood in his wake, blinking at his retreating form in confusion. Why was Yuuri so rattled? It wasn’t like he was the type to introduce himself to strangers, either. In fact, he didn’t know  _ any _ of his neighbors. But they guy could have said  _ something. _

Maybe he didn’t speak English very well. Yuuri wasn’t the only exchange student in this apartment complex, and if it weren’t for those English cram school classes he’d been taking since kindergarten, he’d be lost.

Yuuri could have asked his neighbor’s name or where he was from, but instead, he stopped at the mailboxes on his way out. He touched the tag on the mailbox next to his own. Why hadn’t he looked before?

_ #307  
_ _ Otabek Altin _

Well, Yuuri didn’t know much, but at least he had a name.

Panko was back to normal after class and dinner, and Yuuri worked on his paper until he was too tired to keep his eyes open. But as soon as he got into bed, his mind drifted back to Otabek Altin.

Even though he didn’t seem very friendly, he wasn’t bad to look at. Cool haircut, handsome face, nice body, now that Yuuri had gotten a good look at it—oh no, had he been staring? Otabek was a bit shorter than Yuuri, but he was broader. That solid frame was usually clad in a leather jacket, even in the summer. For the bike, Yuuri supposed. Otabek’s motorcycle used to wake him up in the morning, but Yuuri was used to it now. 

The rev of an engine startled him now. He checked his phone—2:32 AM. Was Otabek coming or going? Where? 

It was none of Yuuri’s business. He closed his eyes but he didn’t feel drowsy until he heard the steady drone of Otabek’s TV through the vent. 

“Cooking shows again tonight, huh?” Yuuri mumbled through a yawn. Panko purred in reply, and as Yuuri drifted off to sleep, he wondered if the sound calmed her, too. 

The semester wore on and both Yuuri and Panko put on weight as the weather got colder. 

“Just another thing we have in common, huh?” Yuuri patted Panko’s head and she stretched her front legs and yawned. But along with the weight gain, Panko seemed disinterested in her favorite toys and reluctant to jump up on the couch to get to her favorite spot. 

“Should I call the vet, my sweet girl?” Yuuri wondered aloud.

Panko twitched at the word “vet” (or maybe Yuuri imagined that) but he made an appointment and coaxed her into her carrier. 

“She’s pregnant,” the vet told him. It didn’t register at first. “We’ll do an ultrasound to be sure, but I’d say she’s at least 30 days along.”

“What?” Yuuri stammered. “But she’s fixed! She was already spayed when I got her.”

The vet chuckled. “Apparently not.” And sure enough, the ultrasound showed a litter of kittens inside her.

“Kittens?!” Yuuri squeaked. He had to sit down. Just when he was getting used to taking care of one cat, now he’d have—what had the vet said? At least five?

“Try to relax,” the vet urged him, stroking Panko from her head to the base of her tail. “Panko will do most of the work. Just make sure you’ve got some old towels or blankets around and she’ll make her nest when she’s ready. I’ll get you in touch with a shelter to find homes for the kittens, unless you want to keep them?”

Yuuri shook his head rapidly.

“Well, so long as everything goes well with the labor”—the word  _ labor  _ made Yuuri feel faint—“and the odds are it will, we can spay her a couple months after the kittens are born. We want the kittens weaned”—that word scared him, too—“but we don’t want to give her a chance to get pregnant again.” The vet smiled and added, “Better keep her inside from now on.”

Yuuri blinked. “She’s always inside. She’s never been outside.”

“Are you sure?” the vet wondered. “I doubt this is an immaculate conception.” 

It was definitely a mystery. Instructions and carrier in hand, Yuuri returned home and scoured his apartment for weaknesses—any opening where Panko could have slipped out—but he found nothing. 

Were it not for the muffled voice of a celebrity chef extolling the delights of lemon zest in Alfredo sauce, Yuuri might never have fallen asleep.

Panic struck Yuuri again in the morning—how had Panko gotten out and back in without him noticing? Cats didn’t wine and dine each other, they just did the deed and went back to business as usual. If Yuuri had been preoccupied with school or just having a particularly anxious moment, he might have left a door or window open without even noticing. Guilt nagged at him; how could he have been so careless? How could someone so irresponsible keep kittens alive long enough to adopt out?

He looked at his sleeping Panko, peacefully unaware, and a lump rose up in his throat. Maybe she’d be better off with someone else…

But the thought of giving her away ate him up inside even worse. He’d just have to try harder. Yuuri pulled out every towel and blanket he could find, leaving them on the floor for Panko to use as she saw fit. 

A week later, he realized he needed more towels. The ones he had weren’t nearly fluffy enough. Triple checking that Panko hadn’t escaped, he left for the store.

He hauled a teetering pile of towels he could barely afford up the stairs and down the hall. Just when he thought he was in the clear, his foot slid out from under him in his own doorway.

Towels set aside, Yuuri crouched down to find he had slipped on an envelope. An envelope full of money. His heart raced as he imagined all kinds of horrible scenarios. Hands shaking, he leafed through the money—$300?!—and found a folded vet bill beneath it, along with a note.

_ This came to me by mistake and I go to the same vet so I opened it. Sorry. But I think my cat got your cat pregnant, so sorry about that, too. Here’s my half of the child support.  _

The note bore no signature, and Yuuri didn’t recognize the neat script. It was more than half of the bill, but it did say  _ child support,  _ so maybe it was supposed to cover more than just the ultrasound... 

Then it hit him.

Only a neighbor could have left the note, which meant either Panko had been in some stranger’s apartment or some stranger’s cat had been in Yuuri’s. But how? Yuuri had combed the place from floor to ceiling.

He vowed to call maintenance in the morning, and the soft twang of Southern cooking lulled him to sleep.

Maintenance couldn’t come for another three days. A giant bag of cat food showed up on day two. It wasn’t Panko’s brand (which was actually a relief—he didn’t like the idea of someone watching him and Panko  _ that _ closely), but it did have a note taped to it. 

_ Do pregnant cats eat more, or is that just people? _

“You do, don’t you, Panko?” Yuuri said. “You need your strength.” But he wasn’t about to switch foods on her now, so he hauled the bag back to the pet store. The receipt was taped to the back of the note. 

When the woman maintenance finally showed up, she listened to Yuuri’s concerns with a hand on her hip and an eyebrow cocked high. 

“Let me get this straight,” she said. “You called me out her because your cat got pregnant?”

“Because another cat in this building got my cat pregnant,” Yuuri explained again. “That means there’s a security breach!”

She rolled her eyes and nodded toward the hallway in Yuuri’s apartment. “C’mon. Let me show you your security breach.”

Yuuri gaped as she pushed a panel on the wall that he didn’t even know could open. Now that he was looking at it, though, it seemed obvious.

“You and number 307 share an attic, if you can even call it that,” she said. “It’s filled in, mostly, but it looks just big enough for a couple of cats to get freaky.”

“But what about fire codes?” Yuuri stammered. 

She shook her head and smirked. “What part of  _ historic apartments _ don’t you understand? You’re lucky cats are allowed in this place at all.” 

Yuuri still didn’t know what to say. 

“Look,” said the maintenance worker with a sigh, “I can bolt it up if you want. Probably should, otherwise your cat’ll try to pop her babies out up there.”

Yuuri agreed right away and she left to get her tools. Through a sliver of open door, Yuuri caught sight of Otabek Altin. Their eyes didn’t meet; Otabek probably didn’t even notice, but Yuuri staggered back a step as the door clicked shut. 

Number 307. 

Otabek’s cat had gotten Panko pregnant and Otabek was paying child support.

An engine revved in the parking lot.

Otabek Altin had a cat, a motorcycle, and a lot of cash. He liked cooking shows and his handwriting was as neat as a teacher’s.

Yuuri had no idea what to do with any of this information. 

Two weeks later, Yuuri found a pack of felt mice on his doormat and a note that read,  _ Plov doesn’t want visitation, but he’s not above buying their affection. _

Yuuri chuckled in spite of himself. He stopped at the ATM the next day and withdrew $75. It probably wasn’t enough to cover the surgery, but he wrote  _ You should probably get Plov neutered  _ on an envelope, put the money inside, and slid it under Otabek’s door. 

A week later, there was a bag of kitten food at Yuuri’s door with a note that read,  _ Done. Let me know if you need anything. _

For the kittens, Yuuri assumed. But Panko seemed to have everything under control. She had chosen a nest beneath the bathroom sink and Yuuri washed his hands in the kitchen so as not to disturb her.

He was cooking more, too, googled recipes he’d overheard from Otabek’s apartment. He’d even googled _plov—_ rice pilaf—but he hadn’t tried to make it yet. 

Once Panko made her nest, it wasn’t long before the yowling started.

Yuuri tried to breathe normally, but breathing was always harder when he had to think about it. His vet had talked him through this. Panko would do all of the work, and Yuuri could call the emergency number if anything went wrong.

Nothing did. It took hours, but Panko gave birth to five healthy kittens. Just like people, newborn kittens looked weird. Alien. Wet. 

“Good job, Panko,” Yuuri whispered. He would shower her with affection later, but for now, she needed time alone with her kittens. It was just as well. There was something Yuuri needed to do. 

He skipped the presents and money this time and simply slid a note under Otabek’s door.  _ It’s three boys and two girls. I think. Mom and babies are happy and healthy. _

The kittens got cuter quicker than people did, and once the vet gave him the okay, Yuuri started socializing them. If only communicating with people were as easy as stroking a kitten’s fur while cooing. Yuuri could spend hours just watching the kittens stumble around the room, and watching them sleep was the second most soothing thing in the world.

The kittens weren’t very interested in the felt mice (though Panko was), and Yuuri wondered if Otabek wanted visitation. 

The answer came in the form of soft knock at the door. Yuuri knew who it would be before he answered.

There in Yuuri’s doorway stood Otabek Altin, holding a casserole dish. Like a true cat person, Otabek stepped inside quickly and checked for wayward kittens before he shut the door behind himself.

They stood there in silence, watching the kittens amble about.

“I hear you’re supposed to bring people food when they’ve just had a baby,” Otabek said. His voice had the same soothing quality as the shows he watched: slow, quiet, and steady. He handed the dish to Yuuri. “It’s rice pilaf.”

The Pyrex was still warm. “Plov,” Yuuri said. “I’ve been wanting to try it.”

“It’s nothing fancy.” Otabek didn’t look ashamed or falsely modest. No, what Yuuri saw in his eyes was genuine humility. Those brown eyes searched Yuuri’s face and Yuuri recognized another emotion, one he was intimately familiar with.

Otabek was lonely. 

“I’d like to meet Plov, too.” Yuuri’s heart pounded at his own bold words, and Otabek’s eyebrows twitched up. “Someday, I mean,” Yuuri added, running his thumb over the cover on the dish..

“Someday,” Otabek finally said. “But maybe we can get coffee first.”

Yuuri smiled. “I’d like that.”

In the end, all five kittens found happy new homes, and Yuuri took Panko to get spayed (for real this time). 

Thankfully, she and Plov still got along just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, allollipoppins! Your prompts were so lovely, and once I got started, this story sort of wrote itself. I hope you like it!
> 
> Thanks to Chel for setting the tone of this story, and thanks to phichithamsters and Songbirdsara for beta reading and consulting on Otabek. <3


End file.
